The Harvest Dance
by blackinkredhair
Summary: Josiah asks for Gemma's help with a fundraiser for the church. Gemma clears the air with her brother-in-law Chris and gets closer to Ezra once again. However, her new father-in-law isn't impressed with Gemma or Four Corners. All Seven must intervene on behalf of their friend.
1. Chapter 1

Gemma walked down the street lazily as had become her habit in the past months. The town of Four Corners, so happy to welcome and embrace her husband continued a cold shoulder approach when it came to her. She enjoyed teasing and taunting the self-appointed propriety guardians who had no choice but to extend the courtesy to her when she was with Mr Monterrey, but they paid back with added venom when she was unaccompanied. Gemma called it frozen virility when she told Montgomery about all the ways the town ladies and many so called gentlemen went out of their way to ignore her presence or participation in conversation. Montgomery found it amusing and reacted with a pleasing balance of disbelief and pronouncements of alliance.

Recently however, these private displays of affection and support didn't reassure Gemma as they once had. She would never admit it to anyone, including herself, but the town had succeeded in making her feel isolated and out of place. After walking Montgomery to the hotel, she would make her way to the other end of the town, circle the church and idly make her way back home. If Josiah was there she would stay awhile chatting cheerfully or helping with minor repairs if he was working inside the church. On Saturdays she would help sweep the floors and church benches in preparation for the steadily increasing flock that the unofficial preacher was gathering to the house of the Lord.

But even that solace would not be granted by the righteous residents. A pointed look here, a spiteful word there and Gemma became wary of hurting Josiah's cause by association. Her visits became shorter and shorter until she only offered a quiet greeting before continuing on. Her walks increasingly began to feel like a sort of penance around the Stations of the Cross for the sins she tried to arrive to in lengthy musings.

This is how walking to town with her husband every day become some days then once a week until her absence became the norm and she felt less and less comfortable showing her face at all.

Lost in thought, Gemma was passing by the saloon, a place she normally avoided in order not to run into her brother-in-law or worse the gambler that she shared a colourful past with. As the door swung open, she held her breath and was relieved by the sight of the large elderly man who didn't move from the threshold.

"Sister Gemma," Josiah started. She gave him a genuine smile in greeting.

"A word."

Gemma opened her mouth to politely decline, but Josiah was in one of his more frevent moods.

"A drink," he baited her in her confusion.

Gemma glanced toward the inside of the saloon longingly. She was in the mood for a drink but feared meeting…

"He's not in town," Josiah stopped her train of thought.

Gemma raised an eyebrow and eyed the mature man who was still holding the door for her carefully. It wasn't Josiah's habit to impose himself on others in such a manner. Her caution gave way to intrigue and she couldn't fight off the rising urge to indulge him.

This was Gemma's biggest failing in the eyes of the world - giving in to her urges. Gemma above all things desired to enjoy life. It was this passion that attracted her supporters and alliananted her enemies. But it was an answer that wouldn't appear no matter how much time she dedicated to musing on her shortcomings. And right at that moment, enjoying her life meant whiskey and lots of it so with a conspiratory grin on her face, the young woman lowered her head and walked first into the dark saloon.

"But you're paying," she added as she entered. Josiah's face twitched into a smile before he followed.

"Lord, have mercy," he said to himself. "I'm gonna pay, alright."

"A what dance?"

"A Harvest Dance," Josiah repeated the words that Gemma was new to.

The couple were on their second drink, Josiah taking his time to lure the young woman into his plan.

"Was the Mud Dance taken?" Gemma rolled her eyes.

Josiah regarded her carefully.

"Or how about Rain-Season Dance? Slaughter at Noon? Preserves Waltz?"

"Gemma Connolly," he warned her.

"Monterrey," she corrected mechanically. The action drew her into her thoughts. She was trying to understand why Josiah was suggesting organising a dance with her.

"I'm surprised you let your husband keep his own name, let alone take his," Josiah teased her.

Gemma threw him a conspicuous look and they downed their glasses to mischief.

"Just give me a chance to explain, I'm begging you."

The words cut Gemma where she'd hoped she'd gone numb by now. She looked at the preacher apologetically.

"You shouldn't beg, Josiah. I'm sorry." Grief entered her words now. "Many places have seasonal celebrations. And what better excuse than to celebrate the end of torturous labour," she spoke adding more liquid to their empty glasses.

"Does the idea displease you so much, sister?" Josiah was confused. He would have bet Ezra his year's wages that Gemma would jump at the opportunity to organise such a large gathering. It was an amalgamate of everything that she seemed to love: fun, food and people. She liked to entertain and she liked to be congratulated, although Josiah would never put it so bluntly to her.

He took her in carefully once more. Was it the people she was so uncertain about? _Homo homini lupus_, after all. He didn't blame her completely. She tried in her own way to keep the appearance of a respectful wife but was too easily distracted and unnerved for the townsfolk to give her the benefit of the doubt. Before she'd left, she was too untamed and unapologetic to stomach. Now that she was back, she was too fortunate in husband and means not to inspire envy.

"And if nobody shows up?" her fears nudged him from thought. "People around here don't like me very much."

"The proceeds will go towards the church," Josiah explained like it made a difference. He hadn't considered pack mentality previously.

Gemma looked at him with a squint. He felt that she was measuring him up.

"People around here don't like you much either," she pressed out evenly.

Josiah scrutinised the young woman sitting next to him for the longest time holding her gaze until it dawned on him. They were weighing each other up. _Could they pull this off?_ was the question on their minds. Gemma released her mouth into a smile first and Josiah instinctively followed. It was as he had predicted. Gemma Connelly-Monterrey always rose to the challenge and was up for some fun in the name of charity. They touched their glasses conspiratorially and downed the amber liquid. They understood they were going to need as much Dutch courage as they could stomach. Josiah lifted the bottle to refill the glasses and the pair continued plotting and drinking until they couldn't speak anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

It took a lot of push and pull until the preparations for the Harvest Dance finally began to come together. The two conspirators were patient and relentless in their schemes. Josiah worked on the guilt and reward front encouraging the pious residents of the town and its surroundings to entertain the idea of deserved celebration of their year long efforts. Gemma on the other hand recruited her husband whose enthusiasm served to convince the townsfolk that the very existence of the idea made it their duty to bring it to life. She, at the same time, used the codes of propriety to her advantage thus making her requests impossible to refuse. For those who toyed with the idea, Josiah nailed the coffin of resistance with morality tales inciting Cristian guilt and charity and with a vague promise that this event might encourage a real preacher to settle in their region.

Finally, it was the same terror of ostracizing that the women of the town applied to Gemma that made them support the Harvest Dance. After Gemma secured the attendance of a few local bachelors, ladies eager to present their single daughters followed suit and this in turn inspired more bachelors which inspired more ladies until it created such an avalanche that Gemma began to wonder if she had truly bitten off more than she could chew.

So it came to be not longer than a month after their scheming afternoon that they had encharged most of the town ladies with ensuring appropriate decoration, music, food and chaperoning. Once everybody had their task the competition and fear of failure spurred the ladies on to their common goal.

Gemma took bitter pleasure at the hypocrisy of ladies who not long ago turned their heads away when they saw her in the street and now hurried to her desperately with updates and hitches. When Mary published the official poster in the newspaper, Gemma stopped by to inspect it. When she saw it, the two women shared a triumphant smile and Gemma allowed herself the thought that they might just pull this off.

Four days before the festival, Mary invited Gemma to approve the front page of the Clarion with regard to the festival. Gemma was surprised to be asked and worried if Mary had uncovered something inappropriate about their upcoming festivities. Her worried expression quickly sparked up in earnest joy.

"Mary, it can't be!" the young woman said shakenly.

"I sold the last ticket myself," Mrs Travis informed her with a squeeze of the elbow.

Gemma cast her eyes on the newspaper again.

HARVEST DANCE SOLD OUT!

150th TICKET GONE WITH FOUR DAYS TO GO

"Congratulations," the journalist smiled.

With an added spring in her step, Gemma crossed the road to Mrs Potter's store to make final adjustments to her dress. It was a dark blue satin with an elaborate skirt that was taking Mrs Potter's assistant more than half an hour to secure in place. Lilianna was preparing a heavily ornate corset that gave the dress an air of regality as Gemma walked a few rounds around the shop to test the skirt out. She stopped in front of a full size mirror and wondered how something that looked to rich and took the better part of the hour to put on could ever feel so weightless. She turned her eyes to the window as she waited for the corset and observed the everyday of the main street.

It was comforting to see people go about their daily lives from above. Mrs Potter's fitting rooms were on the first floor and gave a clear view of the town. Buck and JD were walking towards the saloon or the sheriff's office the younger man massaging his eyes and the taller yawning unapologetically. _They must be coming back from the late night patrol_, Gemma thought. When they turned to the Sheriff's office, they confirmed her reasoning. She smiled lightly at the thought of her two friends who will probably cross the road to the saloon for breakfast before turning in. She decided to drop by to the saloon to greet them no matter who she might run into while there. These were her friends and Buck more than family and she was done with not seeing them enough. Besides, it might still be too early for one of the seven to be up by the time she's done.

Gemma's eyes settled on a ball of desert wind in the distance as she contemplated the rest of her morning. There were probably a hundred details that needed to be finalised and crossed off the checklist that she carried with her everywhere she went. Gemma struggled not to let her nerves get the better of her. _One thing at the time_, she kept repeating to herself. She had to cross the dress of her checklist before she could run herself of her feet for the next four days. That was the promise she'd made to her husband who insisted she should put the dress on the checklist and procured the elaborate costume for her in the first place. Dutifully, as gratitude for his consideration she pushed other responsibilities out of her mind and focused on the growing cloud of dust instead. _It must be the stage_, she finally decided as she tried to make up the shape in the distance.

Lilianna finally lifted the corset in awe when Gemma understood what she was looking at. Before Lilianna could say a word, Gemma was already halfway down the stairs of the shop. Mrs Potter squelched in surprise at the sight of the half-dressed young woman swooshing through the front door and out across the main street of the town as heads turned and reputation was lost.

Gemma ran like she hadn't in years and luckily she didn't have far to go. She pushed the door of the hotel with everything she had in her nearly tearing it off. Her eyes locked with those of her husband who often entertained departing guests at the foyer. His smile froze on his face. He didn't get a chance to ask what was wrong.

"Four horses pulling a red and white gilded carriage coming in from the South," she delivered before inhaling.

Montgomery Monterrey's face dropped instantly. The married couple closed the distance between them and pressed each others' hands tenderly. Only they understood the exchange that passed in their looks. _Are you sure?_ and _Yes._

Lilianne proved to have more sense than Gemma would have given her credit for. The seamstress was now approaching her with her original dress. Gemma clutched onto her morning dress which confirmed to Lilianne that she had made the right call. This made her more daring and she ushered Gemma in the back to change. They emerged 15 minutes later, Lilianne confident that she could take all the dust out of the satin before the dance and not to worry about a thing. Mrs Monterrey looked pale and distant, lost in a dress that that morning made her look exuberant. She approached her husband who was looking out the side window. He nodded to her encouragingly then hooked her arm and led her out the door.

The carriage had just stopped, evident from the thick layer of dust it was still engulfed by. Many people stopped to spy who was coming out. A few heads nodded when they saw Montgomery Monterrey approach the carriage. It made sense such extravagance was connected to him. He held out his hand and another clad in a white glove used it as support. A cane followed, then a leg in the same colour as the glove. No one in Four Corners had ever seen anyone apart from Don Paolo wear white trousers before. A man toppled out of the carriage and scrambled for the sidewalk like his life depended on it. Gemma struggled with the smile she wore on her face, but she needn't have worried. Nobody was looking at her.

"Mr Montgomery Monterrey Senior," the valet announced to the street and Gemma cringed inwardly. As if it was their cue, a loud murmur spread down the street. Gemma's smile was quickly turning into a grimace she failed to control.

Gemma's husband nodded at her encouragingly before he lead his father inside the hotel. She turned in dismay and greeted the driver who was already unloading the bags from the coach. The valet stayed long enough to inform her of the contents and value of each bag and give her instructions of how they were to be handled.

"The driver is only paid for his intended occupation," the valet insisted coldly.

Gemma smiled without passion. She tried not to let it get to her that she was treated as a bellboy and a thief. The valet got under her skin on the best of days and she could see that that day was not today. She got on with her new set of tasks without a word of protest. She'd spotted Vin taking in the unusual situation from the jail and was sure he would come to find out more if she gave him the least reason to. Buck and JD were already at the carriage with Casey and her friend elaborating on the luxurious craft of the vehicle like they knew anything about it. Gemma ushered the bags and caddies inside before anyone she knew could engage her.


	3. Chapter 3

Mr Monterrey Sr was not a pleasant man to be around. He was nitpickingly demanding and actively aggressive. Nobody liked him including his son, although the family bond made him feel indebted to him. Monterrey Sr was never happy and was disgusted by kindness. He craved nothing but money and women, especially those he could take or destroy to spite others. The only people who accepted his company were those as bitter as he was.

Gemma was more than relieved to be dismissed as soon as Monterrey Sr finally laid eyes on her.

"Get that witch out of my sight," were his actual words.

Monty gave Gemma a pitiful look and although she would normally stand up for herself both at the words from senior and the lack thereof from junior, she left the room without a second thought and let out a long tense sigh when finally out.

The valet, Jason, was put in charge of bringing her home and he made it clear that running errands was not _his intended occupation_.

"You husband may grant you permission tomorrow," he said.

Gemma didn't speak back although inwardly she was fuming. If she called a spade a spade, she was petrified of Monty's father and his valet. They didn't just put on an act of ice and terror. They were.

Monty made sure that Gemma was brought into town the next day. He had to work hard to get the slightest amount of budge from his father who outright forbade that his daughter-in-law should take the carriage with them.

"We don't need her to listen to our business anyway," Gemma heard him say through the open window. "Let her fool around with her woman's hobbies. It will be good for the hotel."

She nearly snorted at that.

"Yes. Yes." The father sounded unconvinced.

Gemma feared how that would bode for her. Montgomery Sr only let things slide when he knew they would bring him better results later on. She tried to push away those thoughts away as she braced herself for the day ahead. The clock was ticking. Three days to go. She'd be lying to herself if she didn't admit that she was absolutely thrilled. Ten Monterrey Seniors and their valets couldn't ruin this for her.


	4. Chapter 4

Although Mary had made her promise that she wasn't to come into town before noon on the day of the dance, Gemma was awake and restless since dawn. She'd been turning to-dos and extreme scenarios in her head for what felt like the entire night. Nothing worked until she decided that she was going to make the best out of whatever comes her way, until she repeated that everyone wanted to have a good time and that there were many hands to help with whatever need be.

She heard the world go to sleep and wake. The final coo of nocturnal creatures gave way to tweeting of birds and buzzing of insects at dawn. Then, the daytime predators began to stir, she thought as she heard rustling within the house. Jason was moving from his room to the East of the house where Senior slept. They had a disturbing dependency on one another that was only apparent if you saw them go about their private lives. Sometimes it seemed to Gemma that Jason was actually the master and Montgomery Senior the servant.

Such thoughts made her skin crawl so her mind turned to her husband instead. The married couple hadn't spoken nor really seen each other since the patriarch appeared in their little haven. The three men had been spending the days in the hotel office with only Jason coming out to demand food or refreshments. This demand on Monty disgusted Gemma, but Monty happily deflected his father's attetions from her. Montgomery Senior didn't care for Gemma and his son was worried what that might lead to if his dismissal turned to complete disproval.

If the married couple ever fought, it was over the strong fist of his father. An absolutism that Monty yearned to escape, but couldn't gather the courage to do so. Had it not been for Gemma's loyal companionship, Montogomery Junior would never have dared to buy and run a hotel in the middle of nowhere, 5 days ride away from his father. Only Gemma understood that this was its main appeal.

But today it was easy to put away the thoughts of things she didn't care about and she turned her mind to Monty once more. It made a smile appear on her face and she rose to speak to him before he left for the day. Gemma snuck into her husband's room and jumped on the bed.

"Watcha doing?"

Monty smiled sleepily but his face was paler than usual.

"Good morning, Mrs Monterrey," he greeted.

"Oh, so your father hasn't taken away that title from me yet?" she teased.

"Don't joke about that," Monty said with more concern in his voice than usual.

"Is everything OK?" Gemma asked with care. He really did seem worn out.

"Just… Finance."

It was enough for Gemma to understand. She patted his arm.

"I..." Montgomery Junior hesitated. He was too scared to say 'no' to his father, but that didn't mean that this was going to be a piece of cake.

"Gemma, dearest. I won't be able to come with you today."

Gemma smiled kindly. "You don't have to worry, Monty. We'll manage with the final preparations without you."

"I… That's not what I mean."

Montgomery Junior looked down at his hands. He was so like a little boy sometimes, but Gemma wasn't in the compassionate mood now.

"That's unacceptable," she spoke sternly.

Montgomery made a grimace. He didn't like it when he was caught between his father and his wife. He liked it even less when Gemma made him feel like he was doing something wrong.

"My darling..." he started.

"He's doing this on purpose," Gemma seethed.

"He wants to know that the hotel is profitable or he won't let us stay."

Gemma froze at those words. She realised that her anger had to be contained and let go. Montgomery Senior terrified her and the prospect of taking away the one thing that kept her and Monty away from him loomed over them now.

"Is it?" Gemma asked instead, focusing on priorities.

"We're doing great," Montgomery Junior said as he pecked her cheek.

"He should be gone soon," he added.

"How soon?" Gemma asked with a sigh.

"Soon," Monty said.

Gemma really tried to contain her nerves, but by 10 o'clock she was through and through done with keeping up any sort of pretences. She saddled her own horse and galloped into town not stopping until she found herself in front of The Clarion. She was about to walk in, head held proud, and inform Mary that she was here and that she's beginning with the preparations and that was all there was to it when she saw the newswoman spring up from her office.

"Thank God you're here!" the blonde woman sounded relieved.

Gemma smiled equally so.

"I couldn't wait another minute," she admitted.

"The wind last night pulled off one of the tent wings."

Gemma stopped breathing for a moment.

"Josiah and Nathan are putting it back on," Mary finished.

"Mrs Davies, Dawson and Thompson are already a the site arranging tables and chairs. So are their sons."

"All 12 of them?" Gemma was amused.

"And some cousins I think. Mrs Potter is baking backups."

"A what?"

"Let's just say that the ladies who volunteered their baking expertise in order to impress their beaus..."

"Failed?" Gemma finished with disbelief in her eyes. This was too good to be true.

"Mrs Potter is also preparing some icing too to save what can be saved."

The two women shared amused smiles. They fed on responsibility and problem solving.

"This is going to be fun," Gemma voiced her suspicion.

"I think you're right, Mrs Montogomerry."

They laughed in unison.

"Come on. Let's see if they need anything at the site," Marry took her friend under her arm and the ladies breezed down the street towards the open field.

It took a few hours of tiny adjustments and final decisions until the lake area at the edge of the town looked like a summer holiday village in Europe. The three tents ensured ample seating and dining space for anyone who wasn't dancing and if worse came to worst a shelter from the autumn rain. Colourful stripes and flags criss-crossed the top of the dance area and various benches were placed next to the lake edge for relaxation and privacy.

Inez brought the drinks up at 1 o'clock and promised to be back no later than 5p.m. - when the dance officially started - with the ice. The more perseverant cake and bread was brought at 2 and the men started the barbecue fire at 3. This is when Mary ordered Gemma to go back to town to put on her dress. Gemma would not have been swayed had Mary not made her feel guilty saying that Lilianna cannot start to get ready until her job was done. In the end Gemma only half relented.

"Only if you're coming with me," she said.

"Oh, I'm just going to wear this. I don't need to change," Mary said dismissively.

Gemma just looked at her: "No."

"You'll understand one day. I'm past the frivolous entertainment."

"Mary Travis," Gemma said gravely. "If you do not come with me to Mrs Potter's shop and pick out a dress right now I will sit here in the middle of the field until December."

"Don't be silly," Mary smiled.

Gemma wasn't being silly. She sat down in the middle of the field and crossed her arms in protest.

"Miss Connelly," Mary let out. She didn't mean to say her former name, but seeing her so impetuous reminded her of the girl who used to roam the town with the seven men.

Gemma understood the mistake but pouted harder. She lay down on the ground completely now and closed her eyes. Mary approached her.

"No!" she said.

"Gemma," Mary pleaded.

"No!" she held in her smile. "No," she repeated with less force, but the battle was already won.

"Fine, just get off the ground," Mary pleaded. Several people were looking at the two women with worried faces.

Gemma opened her eyes brightly.

"And I get to pick your dress," she pushed.

"Gemma, I..."

She crossed her arms again and was back on her back in no time.

"Let's just go or we'll be late," Mary conceded.

The young woman jumped up like a cat and was already taking long strided to the vagon they had taken in with the decorations. _This was going to be fun_, she was now sure.

"Now isn't that something!" Gemma exclaimed at the sight.

"You look remarkable," Mary countered stunned.

The ladies giggled at their appreciation of each other.

"No wonder it takes an hour to put it on," Mary said. "That's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"We should have put it on there," Lilianna fussed.

"It's going to get soiled sooner or later," Gemma dismissed her concerns. She loved the dress and felt that she didn't want to be out of it ever again. She looked at Mary now. After a lot of fuss, Mary allowed herself to try the crimson number with no petticoat. Although Gemma pushed for one, she finally agreed the dress might suit her better as it was. The red brought out a shine in her face and Mary looked more radiant than ever.

"I'm sure there's a certain cowboy who'll owe me a favour when he sees you like this," Gemma teased.

Mary couldn't help but blush at Gemma's openness both to her and in front of Lilianne.

"Gemma," Mary admonished. "I'm going on business."

"You look like you mean business, alright," Gemma grinned.

"Gemma!" Mary was warning her now, but the younger woman was supportive.

"You look wonderful," she finished.

"We better get moving if we want to be there for the greet. Otherwise Josiah might take charge," Gemma said gravely.

The two other women gasped then laughed on cue.

"Shall we help you close up?" Mary turned to their wardrobe assistant.

"Oh!" Lilianne breathed heavily. "Oh no, I'm not going tonight."

"Not going!" Gemma sounded like she'd never heard anything more surprising.

"Of course you are," Mary agreed.

Lilianne just smiled sadly. She was new in town and kept mostly to herself. Her room was above Mrs Potter's shop so she was a rare sight as it was. She seemed timid and embarrassed now. The two ladies looked at each other. Either she had no one to go with or didn't dare. Either way they weren't leaving her alone in Four Corners while the whole town was at the party.

"We couldn't possibly do without your help once we arrive," Mary said.

"I won't hear of it," Gemma ordered.

Fear painted the young woman's face.

"Oh, I didn't mean… Of course, I will help with your garments," she apologised.

"And when you've finished, you'll stay," Mary concluded.

"I mean we need all the extra hands we can get," Gemma added.

The seamstress smiled lightly.

"Of course, whatever I can do."

"And you know the most important task you need to perform?" Mary grinned at her.

"What's that?"

"Have all the fun there is," Gemma whispered.

The three women laughed gayly before they helped Lilianne into a more appropriate dress and closed up the shop.


	5. Chapter 5

Although they arrived just before 5, it took their guests another half an hour to start to arrive. Gemma toyed with the idea of standing at the gate and smiling into every viper's face to remind them on whose charity their daughters were really presented to society, but her duties made her change her mind. In the end it was Lilianne and Mary who shielded the arrivals from Josiah's overgrateful outbursts of welcome and joy. And it was a joyous occasion. The music was lively and the people cheerful. Inez's beer and spirits helped settle nerves and the abundance of food accompanied conversations. There was a pleasing promenade between the food tents, the lake stroll and the dance floor. Gemma found Josiah and they gleamed at their success.

"Congratulations, preacher," she said. "You've gathered quite a congregation here."

Josiah held out a glass to her.

"To your invaluable assistance, sister Gemma."

They drank with joy and pleasure.

"There ain't no such thing as building bonds between the flock. Oh, yes!" Josiah said and walked away. Gemma suspected he might have started on the liquor much earlier in the day. She made a note to keep an eye on him in case his mood turned sour.  
***

It was past 8 o'clock. The sun was beginning to go down and Gemma decided it was time to start lighting the gas lamps. Not wanting to spoil anyone's fun, she began the task herself and immersed herself in the meditative escape it was giving her. By the time she finished, the night had covered the field completely and the warm glow of the lamps painted the faces of the partygoers with soft pads.

"Give me the matches," Gemma heard a voice behind her.

She wasn't surprised to see Mary holding out her hand with determination. Gemma released the matches without a fight.

"I'm done."

"Yes, you are. The lights are up, the people are fed, the music is pleasing and you need to sit down and get something to eat," Mary observed.

"And drink," Buck finished for her.

Gemma was about to say something but saw that Mary wasn't having any of it.

"This dress is not really designed for sitting."

"You should be dancing," Buck saw an opening.

"Not before she eats, Mr Wilmington."

"In that case, you'll make sure I don't disappoint Buck, Mary? He only has until his patrol at 10."

Vin and Nathan took the first part of patrolling the town while most of its residents were enjoying the festivities. It was a calculated decision from Chris who was kind enough to give the town lothario a taste of the fun, but ensure the chastity of the ladies when night fell. It was better not to poison the party with jealousy or reputation fights.

The journalist understood Gemma's thought process and conceded her defeat. If she was to get Gemma to relax, she had to take up Buck's dance offer.

"Certainly," she agreed and the ladies smiled again. Neither remembered when they were so self-satisfied last. And it felt good.

The town womaniser led the blonde woman to the dance floor and Gemma moved towards the food tent. It was almost empty now both of food and of people. There were just some sandwiches left and Gemma suspected they were turning dry anyway. She considered her options because she knew that she wouldn't be able to lie to Mary if she asked her what she'd eaten. She considered asking one of the remaining people clearing the grill if there were any leftovers in the back when a dark figure stirred next to the sandwiches. In the corner at the back of the table she saw Chris Larabee balancing his feet on the chair in front of him.. Gemma picked up a few cheese sandwiches finally realising how hungry she really was then walked over towards the shaded figure. She focused her gaze on the dance floor as she ate. Everything was going so well that it encouraged her mischievous mood. She chanced her arm and spoke to the town sheriff.

"You should ask Mrs Travis to dance before she's forced to come over and ask you herself."

Chris Larabbee looked up at her from the corner of his eye but there was no anger there.

"She seems to be enjoying herself just fine."

"But she keeps looking over here and she ain't looking at me," Gemma added innocently and as if on cue Mary's eyes darted towards them and then back at her dance partner.

The blonde man shifted uncomfortably, but didn't say a word. Gemma took it as a good sign so she continued.

"And if you're not careful, she might have to resort to jealousy. And you'll have to pry her from Buck's dead hands before you get another chance."

Buck was getting that predatory look in his eyes. The song was finished and Mary made an attempt to leave the floor but Buck clasped her hand and led her to another dance. The town newswoman darted their corner of the tent once more. The man in black glanced at his sister-in-law again as if he hadn't expected such wisdom from his left.

"How quickly you learn," he said simply.

Gemma battered her eyelashes and made the most innocent face she could muster.

"Whatever do you mean?"

Chris smiled cautiously. "Just yesterday I was tucking you in with tales of prince charming and you turn out to have the mind of the wicked stepsister."

She was beyond thrilled with how everything was going. Chris' mood was the cherry on top. It was the first time since she returned that he mentioned their life together as a family and it comforted his sister-in-law beyond words.

"The fairy godmother, I'd like to think!" Gemma giggled.

"I should think not," Chris fired back.

God, she'd missed that. It felt so good that it stung. To lose a sister and nephew was difficult enough but to also have to lose him. It was unbearable.

Chris had become overprotective at first, overbearing next and out of reach last. Gemma tried to keep tabs on him after he left the homestead but until she ran across himself and Buck in Four Corners on the day they were riding out to the Seminole village she had no luck at all. Through necessity and poor choices, Gemma became an accomplished gunwoman by their next meeting and insisted on adding her services to the seven men. Naturally, he opposed to it, but Gemma hung on. Larabee reasoned with judge Travis not to encourage his sister-in-laws ideas of serving with the rest of the unofficial guardians and traditionalist that he is, the judge agreed. At first. Because God help you if you stood between Gemma and her goals. She could sweet talk a one-legged man into chewing his remaining foot if she decided to. And in the end she proved an excellent filing assistant, ladies' prison guard and at times an undercover worker.

"You're so much like your sister," Chris Larabbee said as he regarded her.

Gemma blinked, touched by his words.

"I don't think she'd agree," she sighed.

Chris didn't shift his gaze.

"She always found something or another wrong about me. She was right."

Gemma took a drink from Chris's glass. It still wasn't easy to deal with her sister's ghost.

"She was as proud of you as she was of Adam," Chris said with his matter-of-fact voice. It didn't leave room for discussion. He reached out for a clean glass and filled it.

"She was just trying to raise you right. She succeeded," he passed the glass over and reclaimed his own. Gemma drank swiftly, but still couldn't find the strength to talk. Instead she extended her hand to Chris and he pressed it gently before kissing it.

"It's nice to see you like this. I haven't seen this Chris in a long time."

"I've been right here," Chris shifted his eyes away.

"You know that's not what I mean," Gemma said without anger.

"I know," he said barely audible and focused on the distance.

"I..." Chris started. He was about to try to put into words how sorry he was for not being there for her. How much he regretted her falling in with the Clayton gang. He wanted to ask for forgiveness for turning her into a gunwoman, for keeping her in Four Corners, for putting her in Ezra's path, for opposing Ezra as her beau. He wanted to say how sorry he was that she felt she needed to get married to a man who couldn't be a husband to her to find a family.

Before he could form his torrent of thoughts into sentences, he was interrupted by the sweating and gasping Buck.

"In case you two thought this was a funeral, it's a summer party. So get those long faces off and put on some sunny dispositions."

His delivery was cheerful and it was obvious he was happy to see his two friends share a moment of intimacy. He downed a glass of beer while Mary opted for punch.

"Mary, help me out with these two!" he pleaded.

Chris and Gemma exchanged a look. Gemma had been right after all. Chris shifted out of his chair and for a moment it seemed like he was going to walk away without a word as was his custom. Instead he extended his hand now, perhaps boldened by the caring exchange he had with his sister-in-law and asked Mary to dance.

Buck in turn smiled at Gemma and was about to sweep her away in the same direction when JD interjected with a life-or-death courting question and pulled him away. Gemma laughed at the thought that JD believed that Buck's advice was his best chance.

As she took in the scenes of delight around her, Gemma felt tiredness wash over her. She wasn't ready to risk sitting in her dress because the skirt was so frigid and the waist so elaborately twisted that she was certain she wouldn't succeed. She moved down to the shaded part of the tent led by the idea to lean on the bannister and continue enjoying the sight of people having fun. She was about to put her plan to action when she heard the flutter of shuffling cards two bannisters down. Obscured by the shadow sat Ezra Standish and Gemma, encouraged by her fortune, the talk with Chris and the liquor, walked towards the man in the shadows. She took a swig of her drink as she walked and left a tiny amount at the end of her glass just in case.

"Not joining in the festivities, Mr Standish?" she asked. Gemma was sure Ezra had heard her approach but he got flustered for a moment as if surprised nonetheless. He was probably deep in thought.

"I've been run off my feet by the Charlston sisters," Ezra said putting the cards away in favour of his hip flask. "I decided to retire before their enthusiasm finished me."

Gemma laughed softly. There were six Charlston sisters between the ages of 6 and 16 and Ezra was notoriously soft with children.

"And what if they play the polka?" Gemma teased.

"In that case I will be faced with two options: evacuate from town or end my existence," Ezra deadpanned with a toast. They drank together. Gemma smiled because Ezra was enjoying himself.

"How will you choose?" she continued in fake horror.

"The proximity to the sisters will be the deciding factor."

Gemma laughed heartily at the gambler's answer. After a shaky start, the man next to her had become such a staple in Four Corners that she doubted neither residents nor his own insecurities would drive him out any time soon. She was pleased for him and it warmed her heart.

Her laughter drew the gambler's eyes to Gemma. He allowed himself to take her in gently but studiously for the first time that evening. Ezra Standish did everything subtly so his gaze didn't persevere. He turned his eyes to the dance floor before he spoke:

"You look magnificent, Mrs Monterrey."


	6. Chapter 6

Gemma Monterrey blushed at the conviction of the Southerner's words and held her breath instinctively. Her eyes darted everywhere except to her interlocutor. She thought about the best way to excuse herself but no words or excuses came to her.

"Might I interest you in a glass of champagne, Mrs Monterrey?" the gambler asked before she could form a thought.

"Don't mind if I do," she accepted as if grasping for dear life.

"You did pay for it," Ezra added wryly as he stood up.

Gemma smiled and dared to look towards him. He was coming back with two glasses and a bottle that was concealed from prying eyes by the waves of Gemma's dress. He leant on the bannister too now and Gemma wondered if he knew why she herself wasn't sitting. _Probably_, she thought. There wasn't much that this Southern gentlemen didn't know about ladies and their habits.

"Mother took me to a soiree such as this when I was a young boy. She knew there was a girl I liked and spent an afternoon educating me on the socially appropriate ways of showing my affections. Miss Miller was a dashing spring flower whose presence always made me tongue-tied."

"You, Mr Standish!" Gemma couldn't imagine Ezra ever at a loss for words.

"Me, Mrs Monterrey," he confirmed gravely.

Gemma was keen on hearing the rest of the story, although every time he called her Mrs Monterrey she wasn't sure whether to feel complimented or insulted.

"So, I convinced Miss Miller to give me every dance in her book that she wasn't saving for her father or her brothers."

"However," Gemma sensed a twist.

The pair exchanged knowing glances. Gemma could have said his next words with him.

"Mother," Ezra confirmed.

"Miss Miller asked me for a short respite after the Viennese waltz and feigned to feel faint."

"She wanted to kiss you!" Gemma exclaimed eagerly.

"Indeed. But it took me many years before I learned that women sometimes attracted affection in that manner. At the time I thought of myself the bravest man this side of the frontier going boldly towards the unknown if you forgive my language."

"My heart was pounding in my throat and I'm sure I hadn't inhaled for minutes. My lips had just touched Miss Miller's," he paused. "When my mother called my name."

Gemma laughed heartily.

"She was passing by in a carriage and called for me to hop in. You see, while she entertained, she also took it upon herself to alleviate her dance epartners of their purses so a quick getaway was necessary."

"Unsurprising when your mother's involved."

"I learned that lesson quickly following the incident," he finished.

"To first kisses," Gemma raised her glass. The couple's eyes met over the rims and Gemma wondered is Ezra was thinking about their first kiss. She wasn't. She was thinking about the likelihood of their next kiss.

"What about you, Mrs Monterrey," he interrupted her thoughts on time. "I don't believe you've ever told me about your first kiss."

Gemma drank with pleasure and turned her eyes back at the dancers. The Southerner let her contemplate on her past. A familiar ease spread between them during his story and he was in no hurry to renew any hostility. The ex con man took in the whole scene and found some peace in the fact that Gemma Monterrey seemed to have finally placed herself in the good books with the hamlet that they both considered home.

He himself understood the insecurities that followed the process. It was a long time now that he had reached that point with the rest of the six lawmen. That odd, scary leap of faith that you are among friends and that they would not abandon you. A feeling he had never experienced with his mother although he was finally coming to terms with the fact that she would always come back to him and he found comfort in that.

Now he tried not to dwell on the hurt that Gemma's abrupt departure had caused him. It was too similar to all the childhood trauma that he'd been through. Everything running smoothly one minute only for his world to be turned upside down the next. Soothed by the layered intake of his flask stash and the party champagne, her renewed presence was more than enough.

Gemma spoke at last: "If I couldn't win a race or a game, I'd kiss boys on the cheek or neck to embarrass them," she started.

"You do learn young," Ezra teased.

"But I suppose my first real kiss… It would have to be..." she looked in Ezra's direction unsure whether to share the whole truth. Then she got a playful glint in her eye and Ezra knew she would share all.

"You mustn't repeat these words to a living soul," she said, eyes intense.

Ezra sat up giddy to be included in what promised to be juicy gossip. His mind calculated incessantly.

"Not..." he thought of Chris Larabee first, but that didn't fit. "Mr Wilmington," he whispered in awe.

"Shhhhh!" Gemma exaggerated and they both burst into raucous laughter.

Ezra offered his flask.

"Pray, go on. With courage."

Gemma drew a sip from a nearly empty container and the gambler drained it completely. They got closer to each other like spy collaborators and Gemma shared a memory she rarely accessed herself.

"Buck caught me alone with a boy that everyone knew I was caught up on. He tried to be helpful and teach me some responsibility."

"Mister Wilmington?"

"Yes, Mr Willmington."

"I'm not surprised it ended in failure. Mr Wilmington and responsibility hardly mix."

"Indeed," Gemma confirmed.

"Well, he'd threatened to tell Chris and Chris would have certainly told my sister. And she... She would have caned me for sure. As she rightly should have."

The conspirators nodded gravely before laughing.

"Like I said, I'd become an expert in shaming young men and decided to use my secret weapon on Buck."

"He can't have been so easily shamed."

"Right you are. But he could have been so easily manipulated. You see, I managed to let out a tear or two and explained to him how naive and inexperienced I was and as such an easy prey. I gave him a squeeze of the arm, a deep sigh..."

"And Mr Wilmington didn't stand a chance."

"Not by a long shot. And then I asked him to show me how to kiss. To know what to avoid, of course."

Ezra nearly choked on his drink when he laughed. All the buried affection that had once been shared between them was resurfacing like budding flowers in spring. It was treacherous ground, but he walked in without looking back.

He raised his glass of champagne.

"To your unmatched ingenuity."

Gemma shook her head like even she couldn't believe she'd pulled it off.

"Would you do me the honour?" Ezra asked after he stood up. He wore a red jacket but a richer fabric than was his usual. The cut was also different although they were similar in design. The darkness of the red gave him a more elegant look, if that was even possible with the dapper gambler.

"My dancing is no match to such mastery, but I'll do my best to honour it."

Gemma didn't need to be convinced. She readily placed her hand in his and followed her flame to the dancefloor. They had come on at the Virginia reel and danced two more group dances until the players slowed down the tempo for an English waltz.

Gemma couldn't tell for sure if Ezra had hesitated because he pulled her firmly eventually and led her in twists and circles like she was a feather. The gambler slowly led them to the edge of the floor where in the darkened spot he moved his face to the place where Gemma's hair met her neck ad grazed his cheek softly on her ear. Gemma missed a step instantly which the Southerner must have predicted as he balanced her back as if nothing had happened. Gemma was awfully dizzy. She turned her gaze at the gambler and in the moment their eyes met all was understood. They stopped moving. Gemma was about to speak, but an answer presented itself.

"Buck," a familiarly irritated town sheriff shouted over the proceedings.

"I was just trying to make sure you know what you're doing."

A guttural sound was all that the young man could produce before spotting that his date was running off in shame.

"Casey, wait!"

A murmur turned into a loud chatter and laughter as nearly everyone at the party watched the unravelling entertainment before them. All but two souls. The ex con man also saw his cue and let the warmth of the evening, the company and the memories mix with alcohol. He gave his arm and Gemma took it immediately.


	7. Chapter 7

The former lovers walked away from the commotion and towards town. They moved in silence, but close proximity. They had walked that way a few times before, taking to the shadows and smaller alleys to the back door of the saloon where Ezra's room could be reached from the other side of the hallway. It was crucial for a man in his line of business to have an emergency exit and they used it to their advantage now to slip into his room unseen.

Gemma let her hands touch the familiar furniture and personal items that she remembered from before. She walked away from the door slowly, her deep blue skirts undulating lazily around her. She was almost by the window when Ezra spoke.

"I missed..." He took his time still searching for what he wanted to say. "That view."

Gemma turned on cue with a small smile. When she spoke it was barely louder than a whisper.

"It's better over here."

They didn't need to speak again. Ezra Standish put down his hat on the dresser and approached the young woman with purpose. He placed a gentle palm on the bottom of her cheek and pulled her into a kiss. Gemma responded thirstily. They stood in the middle of the room for a long time before they moved to Ezra's favourite place in the world - his feather bed.

Ezra awoke to find his former lover wrapped around his torso and her head resting lightly on his left arm. The gambler lay motionless beside her, but the thoughts in his head curled like a treacherous river after heavy rain. He struggled with a memory that lingered sharply in his mind as if it was happening anew.

He had ventured up the stairs to Nathan Jackson's office a few months ago on a hunch. You could have knocked the town healer down with a feather. None of his fellow lawmen - apart from the sometimes hypochondriac JD ever voluntarily came up to his clinic. There wasn't one time, not one that he could get any of the peacekeepers into his office unless they were already unconscious. So when he saw Ezra sitting next to his desk he got worried.

"Ezra, you alright? Those headaches been..."

But the gambler interrupted him before he could finish. When he heard the words: "I am here on personal business," the town healer thought he might need some medicine himself because he must have been hallucinating.

"Of course, Ez. Whatever you need," he said snapping into doctor mode.

Nathan hoped that it wasn't Ezra's shoulder. The gambler had dislocated it more than once and if he kept going it could result in permanent damage.

"Mr Jackson," Ezra began formally. Nathan was put instantly on guard by his tone. There was danger in the ex con man's voice, not vulnerability.

"I have been alluded to and I have been reprimanded over what I consider an intimate matter. I'm here because I've concluded that you will be able to shed light on the matter."

He continued with danger in the voice again: "But to be perfectly honest with you Mr Jackson, I hope you will not."

"What's up, Ez?" the healer asked gingerly.

"I would like to appeal to your conscience and responsibility to me as a fellow lawman. Your colleague."

Nathan pulled into his chair. He wasn't sure why but he had the distinct feeling he'd done something wrong.

"Mr Jackson, are you aware of the reason behind..." Ezra paused but didn't release the sigh that he was holding in. "The reason behind Mrs Monterrey's original departure from our homely hamlet?"

_So that was it_, Nathan thought. _Today's the day_. He still couldn't bring himself to say it.

"No, Ezra. I'm not." He wasn't lying, but he wasn't saying the whole truth either. The resignation in his voice confirmed Ezra's suspicions. He pulled his hat around the rim absentmindedly for a while then stood up and walked towards the window. The gambler's eyes lost focus now that he realised that his fears were confirmed.

"Can you… hypothesize, Mr Jackson?"

Nathan shuddered at the cold venom behind the etiquette. He still couldn't make himself say what Ezra already guessed but needed to hear.

"Ezra, I really..."

"Mr Jackson, did you or did you not examine Mrs Monterrey a day or two before she left?"

"I did, Ezra."

"What were your findings?"

This was excruciating but what hurt the worst was that Ezra wasn't even looking at him. He almost felt as irrelevant as he did before he was freed. It took a moment for the former slave to regain composure. This whole thing wasn't Ezra's fault.

"You know I can't talk to you about the personal exams of my patients," he said weakly.

"I have come to believe this particular exam concerns me. And might I remind you that you have shared medical information about our associates among our group more than once."

"Look..."

"Let me rephrase," Ezra tuned to look at him. Nathan froze on the spot.

"Do you have any reason to believe that your findings had to do with my person, Mr Jackson?"

"Maybe. Yeah."

There was a shift in the gambler's poker face and he either couldn't or didn't try to rearrange it. The pain, the disappointment crushed Nathan.

"Don't make me beg, Mr Jackson." he said giving the final blow.

"I thought she was pregnant, Ez. But we talked since and the doctors in San Francisco told her it was kidney stones." Nathan wanted to believe it. He spoke fast in order to put information that was hurtful behind them as soon as possible. Ezra wasn't at all eager to let it go.

"In your professional capacity, Mr Jackson, would you agree with that opinion?"

"I'm not a real..."

"Do you think it was kidney stones?"

The ex con's face was stern now. Challenging. Nathan would have to tell the whole truth.

"I… I don't know. But I didn't. I was confident of my diagnosis. I'm sorry, Ezra."

"And you didn't think to inform me of this, Mr Jackson?" the Southerner was making his way back towards the door without looking up at his fellow lawman.

"As a doctor..." he started but his words were stuck in his throat. The gambler threw an uninterested look back at him.

"I'm not allowed to tell," he finally whispered.

"But what about as a friends, Mr Jackson?"

Ezra Standish reached into his pocket and dropped a few coins onto the healer's desk.

"For your _professional_ services," he said and exited the room.

Nathan Jackson was left behind more disappointed with himself than he had been in a very long time.

Suddenly, the bare places where the young woman's body touched his own burned with an irksome sting. Ezra Standish all but jumped out of bed at the sensation. The movement ruffled Gemma, but she hadn't fully woken yet. The gambler took to dressing without a care about how much noise he was making. He chastised himself without compassion now that his head was clear and his composure of himself back. He cursed the drinks he'd had and the tender atmosphere that he had let overtake him. The night before he let himself take a different train of thought. He had reasoned with himself, albeit his drunken self, that he deserved a night off. That he should let go of the bitterness, regret and anger that he surrounded himself like a shield since Gemma had reappeared. It was his fear of abandonment, ridicule and disappointment that drove the shield up. If Ezra were honest with himself, the shield that he carried had little to do with Gemma and a lot to do with himself. With his overbearing fear of loving in vain. But Ezra wouldn't focus on himself. It was easier... It was safer to hide his fear behind blind rage.

Gemma finally woke when Ezra found it insurmountably difficult to work his cravat which he'd pulled out of the collar with a sharp whip for the second time.

"Early patrol?" Gemma asked dreamily only somewhat aware of his source of irritation.

"To be perfectly frank, Mrs Monterrey, I'd like you to leave at your earliest convenience."

The icy stab that he words delivered to her gut woke Gemma immediately.

"I… I beg your pardon?"

Ezra gave up on his cravat and looked back at his lover through the mirror.

"I'd like you to leave. Now."

Gemma looked for humour in his words but there were none. She looked around the room taking in the situation that she was in.

"It takes half an hour to put on that dress."

The young woman's mind was working hard, but she was too confused to make sense of it all.

"Ezra..." she started,

"I don't care what you do. But I don't want to find you here when I'm back."

The ex con man picked up his hat and left before Gemma had a moment to understand what he was saying.


	8. Chapter 8

Yes, Gemma wanted to be out of there 'now'. But if she was to avoid another half-dressed parade down the main street of Four Corners she had to employ all her patience into putting the dress on. Her success was half-baked. The dress needed an extra pair of hands and Gemma was working it half-present. She would pull up ribbons and fabric with force and attention only to freeze in reliving the words Ezra spat to her. Flashes of the night before mixed with that morning. Her mind was so intent on making sense of the sudden change that it was hard to focus on the dressing task she was also eager to execute. All Gemma wanted was to get home and crawl in a dark corner of her room. She would not cry before that and tears that she was holding back created heavy pressure at the top of her chest. When her dress looked like it would hold up at least long enough to reach Monty who would then put her in the carriage and care for her until the whole scene felt like a very bad dream, Gemma darted out of the room without a second glance.

Now that her mind was free from the puzzle of putting on her dress, her thoughts landed squarely on Ezra's hurtful words trying to solve the more complex problem. It was difficult all the more as pain and defeat clouded any reason that could be arrived at. Gemma walked down the main staircase of the town saloon blind to the world. Had she had the sense to take in her surroundings, she wouldn't have walked down straight into the lion's den. A strong grip on her elbow roused her to reality. And it was too late.

Montgomery Senior pushed her out into the street through the closed saloon door. She fell on her knees and knew what was coming next. She was prepared for the blows that followed, but it took time to realise Montgomery Senior must have come to the saloon after his morning ride. He was standing above her, arm flailing wildly around her. He was using his riding cane.

It was too much to bare. The young woman couldn't control her voice at the strikes. She could make out that the street had filled with people, but none moved to help her. None until Vin and Nathan came out of the sheriff's office and she had to focus now to save them. Vin was pointing the Mare's Leg at Montgomery Senior when she shouted desperately:

"Leave it! Leave it Vin!"

Another strike. She cursed the man because she needed to get the message across and he wasn't going to make it easy.

"Do not..." Another strike. "Do not get involved!" And another. "Please, don't! He will destroy you if you do!"

She became aware that Montgomery Senior was also shouting obscenities between blows. Words that caused her deep shame and distress. Words she wouldn't care to repeat or hear ever again. She could tell that although Vin relented for a moment, he wasn't going to heed her warning much longer. At that moment, a long protracted 'no' came from the direction of the hotel. Montgomery Senior struck with renewed energy at the sound of his son's protest and before Junior managed to push his father of his wife, the cane broke across her left arm.

"You let this whore dishonour you in front of the whole town," Montgomery Senior's words carried a threat. _If you can't control her I will._

"I'll handle this," his son announced to the street. "Get the carriage," he addressed Jason and pulled up his bruised wife to stand.

Gemma's legs could barely hold and her dress clung weakly around her. The only thing propping her up was fear of more shame and trouble. Out of nowhere the carriage appeared and Montgomery Senior and his lackey mounted their horses Monty did his best to get his wife in the carriage where she could slump into the plush seat with her husband next to her. The driver sped out of town filling the air heavily with dust, questions and gossip.


	9. Chapter 9

It didn't take longer than twenty minutes from when Monty helped Gemma to her room that five riders showed up at their threshold. It was Monty's dubious responsibility to meet the five lawmen at the door. His father had the sense of hiding away in the back of the house confident of Jason's assistance were he confronted directly. Gemma wanted to convince her friends that this dispute was better left to herself, but she was in no state to talk let alone walk down to meet them.

"Chris will not like this," she whispered weakly to her husband.

"What can I tell them?"

Montgomery Junior was torn in two. He wanted to help Gemma, but he also knew his father. If he was confronted now by the less than reputable law keepers of Four Corners he would exact revenge of unpredictable proportions upon them all. Montgomery Senior wasn't just a rich man. He was a man of influence, a well-known San Franciscan politician and worst of all well-connected with organised crime. He was a man who got his own way through force, battery and murder, but kept his image clean to ripe the benefits in the reputability of high society. At the click of a finger he could have all the seven arrested, tried and executed. Monty didn't want it to come to that most of all for his wife and he had to convince her brother-in-law and the rest of her acquired family that it was better for all people involved if the couple dealt with Montgomery Senior themselves.

"Open the door before we tear the place down," Chris Larabee was clear.

"Let Nathan in. We'll make him understand," Gemma was barely intelligible. She moved her hand towards a drawer in her dresser and Monty opened it for her.

"Show this to Chris. Tell him..." Tears flowed down her cheek mixing with the desert sand that covered her face. "Tell him I begged him 'no'."

She closed her eyes after she finished speaking, all her energy gone.

Monty braced himself for the encounter. He gripped the newspaper clippings to his chest as he neared the front door.

"I'm coming out. Please, don't come in before I speak to you."

There was rustling in front of the door but no reply came. The young man braced himself for what was coming then sprung out of the house with a dexterity that took the awaiting lawmen by surprise. He locked the door behind him and put away the key in his trousers.

Chris Larabee had him pinned to the locked door before Montgomery Junior could turn around himself.

"You son of a bitch," he said and held a gun below his chin.

"Please," Monty said unsurprised with the welcome. "This is my father. Gemma wants you to stay safe." The man held out the clippings at whoever would take them.

Josiah's hand approached at last and the former preacher was the only one to take his eyes off the trapped figure. Buck Wilmington towered behind his oldest friend, JD was too embarrassed and confused to stand still or look to anything in particular and Nathan stood back waiting for an opening so he could rush up to his patient.

"She said to get Nathan and she would explain everything to him."

"Wouldn't you just like that," Buck let out a menacing whisper.

Montgomery Junior didn't shift his eyes from Larabee's. "She told me to tell you. She's begging you 'no'."

The blonde cowboy would have clamped the man before him with a gun for his words had Josiah not spoken at the same time.

"Perhaps we should consider sister Gemma's safety before we continue," he said.

"That's what we _are_ doing," the womaniser barked back.

JD looked to the papers in the preacher's hands for something to do. He gasped in horror at the headlines.

"Is this Mr Monterrey's doing?" Josiah asked Junior slowly. He seemed the calmest of the bunch but inside anger was simmering steadily as it always did with the preacher, only to reach a boiling point of volcanic proportions with time.

All heads now turned to the news in his hands although Chris's grip never wavered.

"Police still searching for missing judge. Local business burnt to the ground. Search for owner continues. Frisco activists found disembodied. Woman missing after defying local thugs," Nathan read some of them out loud after JD was too disturbed to look again.

"What do I care for some sleazy Frisco snake? I'm the law around here;" the leader of the seven pushed his gun further up his target's jaw.

"He knows things, Mr Larabee and what he doesn't know he can find out or plant," Montgomery Junior whispered. "Gemma is worried about your safety. My father is not a man to play with. He does not lose."

This was not over by a long shot, but Nathan was getting restless.

"Let me go up, Chris. See if I can get some answers."

"Give me one good reason why I don't just go in and shoot the son of a bitch. After I've shot you."

Montgormery Junior swallowed at the conviction in the blonde man's words. Buck Wilmington nodded eagerly behind him and JD was already grabbing his guns.

"Jason."

"Who the hell is Jason?" Buck asked out of habit. He couldn't imagine a reason that would stop him of barraging into the house and shooting down every person who had ever eve looked at Gemma funny.

"You will not get past him and you will pay for your failure eventually."

Nathan stopped Buck from slapping the irritating man in front of him by interrupting.

"Let's go to Gemma."

"I need the rest of you to ride off first," the young man said and earned that slap.

"Like hell," Buck added.

"Josiah can stay outside and I'll meet you all back in town after I make sure that she's OK."

"She isn't OK. That's why we're here," Chris was adamant.

"Please," Monty tried and earned another slap.

"Let's not make this worse for her. Let me go up to her and we can work on the information she gives me," Nathan tried. He started to tense up and he had a bad feeling about all of this. He wanted to avoid anyone else being needlessly hurt.

"Let's make this easy on her. Help with her pain for start. Buck, c'mon."

Nathan directed his words to the ladies man because he thought he would be more receptive. He also started to realise that since Gemma was married to Montgomery any action that they took could be taken up legally by her father-in-law and could be the first manifestation of the trouble Montgomery Junior seemed so worried about.

The air remained quiet apart from silent murmurs of Chris Larabees curses. Buck placed his hand on his friend's gun arm and looked him in the eye.

"Let's figure this out in town, Chris."

"I'm not leaving her here!"

"Nathan and Josiah will look after her."

"You're a bloody coward."

"We all want what's best for her."

"He doesn't," Larabee waved his gun back towards Montgomery Junior.

"Let's give her the benefit of the doubt. She'll come to us if she needs us."

The phrase did the trick. The blonde man's face dropped and soured. He'd been guilty of forcing his decisions on his sister-in-law and causing her to rebel against them. Chris was hurt that his friend would use that as a weapon against him now. He gave up with displeasure. Chris holstered his gun and addressed Nathan.

"Any sign of trouble..."

"We tear them down," the healer agreed.

"Let's go before I do it now."

There was much more that he wanted to say and do, but for Gemma's sake, he rode off after Buck and JD without a second backward glance, all the way home battling with his insecurities. He dwelled on the question: _Am I doing the right thing?_


	10. Chapter 10

It took ten long days to wait the nightmare out. Nathan visited daily for the first five when Gemma asked him not to come around anymore. Her bruises were turning nastier, but he estimated that her overall condition had improved. She didn't have to explain why she wanted him to stay away. The house was in a constant state of flux. Six pairs of hands worked meticulously at stripping down the place of everything apart from the wallpapers. Any and all possessions were put in crates upon crates that were sent off every morning.

Even though the healer stopped visiting, the guard duty never ceased. Since the peacekeepers were turned away on the first day, they kept continuous watch on the house paying special attention to the second window from the left on the first floor. Nathan had come up with a signal in case Gemma needed help but couldn't get out of the house.

All but one witnessed what was going on. The Monterrey's were leaving Four Corners for good. The hotel had been sold on the day that Gemma was brutally beaten for all the town to see, but the news only came out a week later. The lawmen were going to make sure that wherever the scum that had hurt her were slithering off, they weren't taking Gemma with them.

Only the town gambler was spared the display. The leader of the seven had let Vin Tanner speak to him out of compassion. Chris knew that he would take it badly and feared pushing the guilt-ridden man over the brink. Ezra Standish had thankfully missed the consequences of their night together to Gemma, but it was apparent to all he blamed himself. To everyone's surprise, Nathan took to speaking to him daily about Gemma's progress and in the process managed to dissuade him from taking up any guard duties at the house. The town was abuzz with gossip and the more the rumour mill churned, the more the seven pulled back into themselves. Each of them carried regret at not stopping the vicious attack or being able to do more now.

On the tenth day, the red and white gilded carriage swayed as Montgomery Monterrey Senior and Junior got on followed by the loyal valet who took the shotgun seat. Nathan was partnered with JD after it was decided that Buck and the kid were likely to do something reckless. JD became jumpy the moment the carriage was out of sight and the town healer struggled to keep him put.

"What if we didn't see her? What if they took her with them? What if..."

"Leave it, JD."

Nathan was confident enough that Gemma was still in the house. From time to time a shadow showed at the window of her room and he assumed she was gathering the courage to come out.

It was three hours later and half an hour before the end of their wacth when the door finally opened. It was hard to recognise the young woman who came out of the house. It had to be Gemma because her height and physique were the same, but she bore no resemblance to the glorious lady that had delivered the Harvest dance only ten days previous. She was wearing a dull brown dress and looked small and drained. The woman walked with effort towards them clutching at something at her chest. It took excruciatingly long for her to reach them even in Nathan's mind. He sighed with relief when it was clear she was coming up to speak to them.

"I'm going to walk into town, gentlemen. Please..." she had more to say but her voice gave out. She kept her eyes on the ground in front of her and waited for their reply.

JD whistled in thought. He obviously didn't think he should let her do that but a look from Nathan stopped him from speaking. There was a long silence as the healer looked for appropriate words. He wanted to offer her his horse, seeing how weak she seemed but he wasn't sure she would be strong enough to manage the ride either.

"our watch ends in half an hour. If you feel unwell sit tight and we'll pick you up on the way back."

"Thank you," the young woman pressed honest emotion into the words and walked on. JD had the sense not to run off with his mouth until she was out of earshot.

When Gemma entered the church, the late afternoon sun was warming the wooden interior with comfort. She walked all the way up to the first pew and sat down exhausted. She'd walked to town in oblivion driven only by the goal of getting to church. This was the only place that she knew welcomed women like her: shamed, abandoned, lost. She didn't think of Josiah's loving presence in the church or the cold licks of forked tongues revved into action by her presence in town. All she thought about was putting one foot in front of the other. It was a challenging task and all that was left inside her was focused on executing it.

The town preacher saw her walk down the main street from the roof and came down to prepare to meet her. His head was still pounding from days of drinking away his regret at suggesting the dance in the first place. But the seven men were good at keeping each other on the right side of the bottle. His night was two nights ago. Tonight would probably be Chris again. The big man inhaled deeply and reminded himself that this was not about him. He prayed for the courage of dealing with his guilt alone. He didn't want to burden Gemma with alleviating it. He should be the one to take on her troubles not the other way around.

When he stepped into the nave, Gemma opened her eyes and smiled. He should have been pleased but the action gripped his heart. He prayed again silently for strength. He walked towards his friend slowly and couldn't resist kissing the top of her head. Finally, he sat down on the step across from her and picked up a stool he'd been working on to occupy his hands. He sanded the top slowly giving Gemma time to relax.

The young woman sighed often and blinked trying to control the tears that were running down her face regardless. Eventually she found her voice.

"For the first time I had some leverage, Josiah. A bargaining chip. A way to get my own way."

"Men always have it all. The money. The power. The say. What they can't talk out of you they pay for. What they can't pay for they beat out of you."

Josiah took his time to answer in case she wasn't finished.

"That's not leverage. That's use of force," he reasoned. He didn't look up to her too often so that she could speak more freely.

"I wanted to win for once. I wanted to have power. And exert force. The only power I ever had was to leave. And what if I wanted to see the proof of my victory? What if I wanted to enjoy it?"

Josiah wasn't sure what she was referring to, so he held on to words that worried him.

"Are you thinking of leaving now, sister?"

Gemma closed her eyes and more tears ran out.

"I can't. I can't even do that. They took my horse," she said with a bitter laugh. "Property acquired in marriage.

"Did you like the animal?"

"What difference does it make?"

She started pacing now. "Just another way for them to win. To show their leverage," she grimaced.

Gemma stopped at the church window and stared out for a long time. Josiah didn't want to disturb her. He picked up a Bible and focused on the word of God to give her time and space. He looked up at her when she sighed deeply and caught a familiar red of the town gamblers coat through the window. Gemma turned away and sat back in the pew. Her eyes were fixed on the cross behind the altar.

"Are we sure Jesus wasn't a woman, Josiah?"

Josiah snorted in amusement but didn't respond in case the young woman was leading her train of thought to a more serious topic.

"He went around healing and caring for people and got himself crucified for his trouble. Sounds like a day in the life."

"Are you comparing yourself to Jesus Christ, sister Gemma?"

Gemma smiled shyly and looked at her hands.

"No, Josiah. I'm comparing Jesus to all women. It can feel like you're always put on the cross for one thing or another."

"I never thought of it like that," Josiah entertained her idea.

"Well..." she finished. _You're not a woman,_ she left hang in the air.

"Sister Gemma, night is coming. If you haven't got somewhere, let me set up a place for you in the back. You'll be warm and sheltered and I'll keep you safe from out here."

Gemma looked up at him with renewed concern, panic evident in her eyes.

"I never thought of that," she admitted. "All I've been thinking about is if there was a place for me in this town. But I didn't actually think of…"

"Many will be happier than they'll ever be able to admit to see you stay with us. As for a place you were thinking about, each man must carve that out on his own… Or her own."

"Is that what you're doing here Josiah," Gemma let her eyes wander around the church. "Carving up your own place?"

Josiah smiled more confidently now. Gemma might come out of this alright. "I guess I am."

"Come. I'll show you to your room."

Gemma didn't move at his words. Instead, she gave another deep sigh.

"You are a true man of God, Josiah. But I think..."

Josiah looked down on her troubled face kindly. He was trying to encourage a right decision.

"I guess I best keep it in the family."

Gemma's face shifted from fear to resignation. Her decision was made.

"Shall I accompany you?"

"Thank you, Josiah. But I know what to do."

The young woman rose up and pressed the preacher's hand.

"Out of interest, sister Gemma," he dared. "What do you _want_ to do?"

Gemma raised an eyebrow at the timing of his question. Her thoughts blurted out before she could turn them into a joke.

"I wish for so many things, Josiah. And then they get taken away."

Gemma gave him another squeeze of the hand and a distant smile in lieu of goodbye. When she exited her back was tall, her shoulders squared and her head high. Josiah let his gaze follow her until she reached the door of _The Clarion_ and walked inside.


End file.
